His name was Cole. And he'd just turned six at the time of the accident...

It had been a normal day for Hank and Connor. Both of them had had their hands full with plenty of cases since androids had begun to win their equal rights, meaning that they were no longer "property", but fully living, thinking beings that needed to be protected under the law. And there were also plenty of people who thought that was bullshit and thought they needed to be taught a lesson.

Which is why Hank and Connor had been so busy lately. As Connor was the only android detective (so far that is, there were a few androids who were considering it from what Hank had heard), and Hank was his partner, they were the perfect team to try to take on any android cases, especially android murders.

"Do you really think we'll find anything else by going back to the scene?" Connor asked as he climbed into the passenger's seat. Hank watched him as he buckled his seat belt, struggling on the part that always snagged, before taking off.

"I dunno. But we don't exactly have a lot of ideas as it is, so I guess it couldn't hurt to go back and look at it. Maybe get a new perspective or some shit," Hank said. Which was true. Their current investigation was at a standstill due to lack of evidence, and it seemed like every day that went by meant that the perpetrator was just one day closer to freedom.

Plus if he had to spend one more second in close proximity to Gavin Reed, he might have to throw him through a window.

All of the taunts and jeers directed towards Connor had been one thing before he went deviant and before androids truly "woke up", but now that they had, it seemed in poor taste to constantly beret and attack a coworker based on something they couldn't change. Hell, it was straight up discrimination. Hank knew that if Connor would just report Gavin and his buddies they'd likely be written up for their behaviors (or worse), but he never did.

It was wrong. Hank knew it was wrong, and Connor knew it was wrong. But Connor still held back, refused to fight back or to make any waves.

"I can't fight back," he'd explained once. "There are still people who see androids with feelings as these violent things that need to be destroyed. If I attack a human, a police officer, do you know how that would look?"

Which was fucking bullshit in Hank's opinion. There was no reason why Connor should have to be personally responsible for every human's reaction to androids to the point that he couldn't even defend himself. Despite his difference in opinion on the subject, he did have to admire Connor for having the strength to hold back. Hank, meanwhile, was not as strong, and had on more than one occasion swapped Reed's sugar with salt and knocked some things off of his desk. You know, on accident of course.

"I know why we're really going out there, Lieutenant," Connor said. He fidgeted with his coin, flipping it in between his hands in ways that Hank could never understand.

"Oh yeah, and why is that?" he asked.

Connor's coin stopped, landing in his hand that he quickly closed into a fist. "Detective Reed? I've noticed the way you seem to be reacting any time he's around lately and it makes sense that you would like to get some space from him."

And the kid got it in one.

"Shut up," he said without any heat.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Connor do his best impression of a smile. For some reason, smiling had seemed to be the hardest reaction to emotion for him to master. It made sense in a strange way, Hank supposed, as one of the last "emotions" detective androids would have needed to project to make a human more comfortable would be "cheerful". There was very little to be cheerful about in homicide investigations.

"What's the old saying? Just ignore the bullies and they'll go away?" Connor asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

Hank snorted. "Maybe if you're five."

"I'm technically less than a year old," Connor said. "So I suppose that could apply."

Hank paused as he thought about that. His partner, an android designed to look like a full grown man, with more knowledge in his head than Hank had ever learned in his entire life, was technically in the eyes of the law, a baby. He'd still be in diapers.

"Just curious. When exactly were you, ah, born?" Hank asked, pausing to try and come up with the correct term. Was it really a birthday if you were never born?

"I was activated August 15th, 2038, " he said.

Hank counted back the months in his head. "You mean to tell me you're fucking six months old?"

Connor nodded as he began to flip his coin again.

It was quiet as Hank absorbed this information. He wasn't sure why it was a surprise to find out exactly how old in human terms Connor was. Androids, aside from the children ones, were usually created with all of the knowledge that they would need for their specific tasks. It's not like he was actually sitting in the car with a six month old child.

But damn, only six months? What had Cole been doing at six months? Rolling all around the house and shoving a ridiculous amount of things in his mouth that didn't belong there?

He stopped that train of thought before it could go any further. He didn't need to compare Cole and Connor. Strange as it was to admit, the kid had wormed his way into his heart, but he was refusing to put him anywhere near the "son" category if he could help it. He'd had a son, and his name was Cole. It felt wrong to try and place anyone anywhere near there again.

"I guess we'll have to have a birthday party for you when you turn a year old," Hank said. "I'm sure there are lots of embarrassing things we could do. You ever heard of a smash cake?"

"A what?" Connor asked. His face was moved into the same confusion that was in his voice.

"Nevermind, you'll just have to wait and see," Hank said. He smiled at the thought of Connor being covered in cake and frosting. Especially if it got caught in that piece of hair of his that always dangled in his face.

A truck skidded of a sheet of ice and your car rolled over.

The second inspection yielded nothing new, much like Connor had expected. It seemed that unless they could find some other clue in the evidence they already had the case would go cold.

Even Connor was frustrated by their lack of progress. He showed it in odd ways, through the obsessive straightening of his tie and coins tricks rather than facial expressions, but Hank found that it was getting easier to read him.

Connor stopped, his LED flashing yellow and his eyes twitching. This was something else Hank recognized. He was receiving a message.

"Lieutenant, there's been another homicide with a similar MO as this one. It's halfway across town, over on Langley.," Connor said.

Hank groaned. He'd hoped that they would have either gotten something from the scene or at least wasted enough time that they would have been able to call it a night. It didn't seem likely he would get his wish now.

He glanced outside, noticing the gathering snow and the darkness that was approaching. "Okay, fine. But we'd better hurry because I'm not staying out all fucking night in the snow."

Despite the snow that was coming down, they were making good time. A drive that could usually take them well over an hour was shaping up to be about a forty-five minute drive. Hank started up some music, handing the decision of what to listen to over to Connor.

Sometimes the kid surprised him and chose pretty good music. It had become something of an interest of Hank's to discover all of the weird pop cultural things Connor might like. Ever since Connor had tried to get to know Hank by mentioning heavy metal music, he'd wondered if the kid had really had an interest in it, or if he was simply fishing for conversation.

Today it was some weird techno music that Hank had never really gotten into. But Connor seemed to enjoy it just fine, so he didn't put up a fuss about it.

It seemed as if the rest of the drive would be as peaceful. But apparently fate or God or whoever the fuck was running this shitshow had other plans.

Suddenly, Connor jerked his head up. He stared at Hank- no, past Hank, and out his window. Before Hank even had time to ask what he was looking at or even turn to see what had made him react so badly, Connor had lurched over and jerked the wheel out of his hands.

The next few moments were nothing but a cacophony of sounds: broken glass, metal twisting, tires squealing, and there, just barely above it all, was Connor. Screaming.

It brought back so many memories from before. Back when Cole was still so little, far too little to be in such a bad wreck. The way his baby boy had screamed and then gone completely silent as abruptly as he'd started to scream. Even when Hank knew what it meant, knew what had happened to his son, he'd still denied it. Still believed that there was possibly a chance he was okay…

Now it was silent. The only sounds around them were the sounds of metal settling and glass crunching as Hank attempted to lift his head.

A semi truck was stuck to Connor's side of the car, it's headlights helping to illuminate the inside. They had somehow managed to spin all the way around until they were facing back the way they had come from.

Connor had grabbed the wheel, Hank remembered. He must have turned the car so it hit his side first.

"Connor?" Hank asked. His voice was shaky, nervous. He was afraid what would happen if he actually looked down at Connor to see what had happened to him.

Thirium splattered the dashboard, it's bright blue color standing out against everything else.

"Connor!" He managed to undo his own seat belt and turn fully towards Connor, despite the pain his body felt.

Connor's head hung low, so low it was almost resting on his chest. His big, brown eyes were closed. It took a moment for Hank's eyes to adjust for him to actually see what the problem was, but when he did he gasped.

A piece of glass had pierced into Connor's chest. Blue blood dripped down the shard, pooling in Connor's lap. His "calibration coin", aka his fidget coin, sat in an open palm, thirium staining it blue.

"Shit," Hank said. He leaned over, his hands fluttering over the piece of glass. He had no way to treat such an injury and no spare thirium on him to replace what Connor was losing.

There was nothing he could do for him.

"Hey, Connor. Wake up, son." Gently, he turned Connor's head, steeling himself to have a look at his LED.

It was solid red. No flashing, no yellow, just red.

"That's okay," Hank said, trying his hardest to keep his voice soothing. "We can fix this okay? You just gotta wake up first."

He reached out to brush the hair off of Connor's face. There was always one stupid lock of his hair that he insisted on letting fall into his face that drove Hank nuts. It always bounced around as Connor moved, like some sort of spring attached to his head. Now it seemed limp, lifeless.

"Come on, kid," he said. He shook him a little, nothing that would hurt him, hell, it probably wasn't even enough to wake him up from a normal rest. But it felt wrong to try any harder than that..

Suddenly, Connor gasped as if in pain. His eyes shot open, scrolling widely through his vision. Hank had seen him do this before, usually because he was getting rid of some kind of warning or programming that had popped up.

"Connor!"

His eyes stopped scrolling as they rolled over to look at Hank. There was something that Hank had never before seen in them, something so much deeper and more human than any other emotion up until that point.

Fear.

But not just fear. A fear of death. Hank had seen the look on too many people. Victims, criminals, his son….

"H-H-Hank," Connor stuttered. His voice was weak, almost mechanical. Most days, his voice was as human as anyone else's, but now it was something Hank had never heard before. Like a machine.

"Yeah, it's me, Connor. I'm here." He gripped Connor's hand, wondering if he could even register the fact that he was holding it.

"W-what's going on?" he asked. "I have so many error reports. I think I temporarily shut down." His eyes continued to scroll back and forth, likely reading them or dismissing them if possible.

Hank paused, wondering how much he might remember. "We were in a wreck," he said lightly. "But it's gonna be okay."

Connor furrowed his brow. "It says I'm leaking thirium. A lot of thirium."

"How much is a lot?" Hank asked, subtly eyeing the pool in Connor's lap.

"Around 35%. And dropping."

Shit.

"Fuck," Hank said, his voice a little louder than he intended for it to be. "Is there anyway to stop it?"

His eyes scrolled through warnings and options before moving down to his chest. The piece of glass was coated blue like a sapphire

"We could take that out," he said.

Hank balked at the idea. You couldn't just rip things out of bodies and expect everything to be okay! Neither one of them were medics and even with both of their training in emergency situations, it still felt wrong to just yank the huge shard of glass from Connor's body.

No matter how wrong it looked stuck there.

"No," he said firmly. "You'd fucking bleed out if we did that."

Weakly, Connor shook his head. "N-n-no. If we c-can remove it, I might be able to redirect the thirium away from the affected areas. At least until we could get help to fix the leak."

Hank stared at the piece of glass coming from Connor. Was it really doing more damage to just leave it in there?

"Hank. Please," Connor said. Hank could feel his tired, puppy dog eyes staring into the side of his head. "I can't do this alone."

And fuck, if that didn't break his heart to hear. The kid honestly thought he was going to have to be alone throughout any of this?

"What do I need to do?" he asked. He rolled up his sleeves in anticipation, wondering if they'd actually made the right decision.

Cole needed emergency surgery but no human was available to do it...

"Emergency services around about ten minutes out," Connor said. "But if we don't stop this leak, I might not… I might not have enough time." He took a moment to compose himself, his eyes slipping closed. When they opened again he seemed even more tired, but somehow more determined. "If you remove the glass I should be able to shut down the tubes carrying thirium to that area and have it redistributed to other areas."

It sounded so factual, like this was something that happened every day and just needed to be done. Not like someone was shutting down their veins and arteries to not bleed the fuck out in a wrecked car.

"How the hell do you know how long it's gonna take emergency services to get here?" Hank asked. He'd finished rolling up both of his sleeves and set about getting into position to grab the glass.

A small smile formed on Connor's lips. "I called them the second I saw what was going to happen. I keep getting updates on their arrival time."

"You're a fucking genius, kid," Hank said, shaking his head. He had to admit that he was impressed. Even for an android the wreck must have happened super fast. It was probably only because of Connor's advanced systems as a prototype that had even made it possible for him to act and call at the same time.

The smile grew a bit before disappearing. Connor stared at the piece of glass, almost as if he were analyzing it before turning his face back to Hank.

"I just need you to pull it out. I'll be able to do everything else."

A lump formed in the back of Hank's throat as he nodded. He grabbed the glass carefully, taking precaution to not cut himself on it, before tugging it out of Connor's body.

Despite the fact that the glass didn't seem to go in very far, it was stubborn coming out. He had to pull harder than expected. For the second time that night, Connor screamed, nothing but fear and pain in his voice.

Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped.

It was like Connor was a puppet with his strings cut. He just went limp, his head rolling forward again, his eyes closed and now movement whatsoever. There was already so much thirium around him that Hank couldn't even tell if he'd managed to stop the bleeding.

"Connor!" he shouted. "Connor, come on! Wake up, son."

A glimpse at his LED revealed a very faint, spinning red light. So he was still with him, then.

"You gotta wake up," he whispered, tears finally spilling over. "You have to, okay? Just wake up." He pressed down over the wound with one hand, while his other arm rest around his shoulders, hugging him to him.

"I don't want to die," Connor's voice whispered. It was so quiet that Hank sure he'd imagined it until he heard it again. "Or shut down or whatever you want to call it. Please, Hank. I'm scared."

Hank spoke through his tears, hoping that Connor couldn't tell. "You're not gonna die. I swear to you, you're not gonna die."

The thought back to the first time he'd been in this position with his son, Cole. He'd held his little body and told him that he was going to be okay, that everything was going to be fine. Even long after he'd passed on, he'd held him and reassured him.

Why Cole? Why Connor? He thought that if he never tried to place the two of them in the same category, if he kept Connor somewhere in a vague category of his own that he'd never have to fear for him like this. That whatever had taken Cole from him would not come for Connor.

Hank could barely see Connor's face, but he could tell he was giving him a soft smile nonetheless. "Thank you," he said.

And then his light quit flashing and went dark.

So an android had to take care of him…

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally became aware of someone trying to separate him from Connor. There were hands there, prying away his fingers from Connor's hand, still pressed to the wound on his chest, and more trying to get him to released his arm from around Connor's shoulders.

"Sir, we're trying to help you," a woman's voice said. Her clothes were brightly colored, the colors of emergency service personnel, likely an ambulance worker. The LED on the side of her head was yellow and spinning wildly as she took in information from the scene.

He could hear her reporting their injuries to the male android standing outside for the car, likely taking notes in his head about the two victims in the car. His age, Connor's android model, where any major injuries were, such as Hank's concussion and Connor's chest wound.

The next few minutes happened in a blur as they helped them from the car and tried to help them. Hank found himself staring at Connor's body as another android began scanning him.

"He's six months old," he said simply, clearly in shock.

The woman paused, her LED spinning yellow again. "I'm sorry?"

"Connor," Hank said, gesturing to the stretcher they were working to get him onto. "He's only six months old."

A look of understanding came over the android's face. It was as if she could read Hank's thoughts and see what he was picturing. A six month old child? A six year old child?

"He is still a very young android," she agreed. "His biocomponents should bounce back a lot easier than if he were an older model."

They placed Connor in the back of an ambulance and set off without even waiting for Hank. Maybe it was the shock, but somehow he didn't seem bothered as they drove away.

"They're taking him to an android hospital," the women explained, had probably already explained. "You can't go with him right now. We're going to have to take you to a human hospital to get fully checked out before you can go there, do you understand?"

Hank understood. He didn't care though. He'd saw the lights on Connor's LED go out. He'd heard the finality in his words as he'd thanked Hank. What did it matter if he could see his dead body if the things that made him him were no longer inside?

He allowed himself to be bundled into another ambulance and be taken away. Despite the fact that he was trying not to listen, he could hear the EMTs discussing the driver of the truck who had hit them.

"Something malfunctioned with his truck apparently. He said he couldn't stop, even after he noticed the car in the way," a human man whispered to the android woman.

She noticed Hank listening and looked down to him. "The driver wasn't injured in the wreck," she said, as if that was supposed to make him feel better. As if he was supposed to feel great that the guy who hit his son and him had survived with nothing more than a story to tell.

Maybe if he was a better person he'd be happy that no one else had gotten hurt. But he wasn't a better person. He was angry and frustrated that someone could kill Connor and get away with it.

"It shouldn't take too long until you're cleared to leave," she said. He glanced at her name tag, which was flashing on her clothes the same way Connor's model number and name sometimes did. Julie.

"Julie," he said. She nodded, whether it was to confirm her name or to encourage him, he wasn't sure. "I want you to be honest with me."

"Of course," she said.

"Connor is dead, isn't he." It wasn't a question.

Her lips pursed together as if she wasn't sure what to tell him. The male EMT next to her looked nervous.

"He'd shut down when we arrived. But I'm pretty sure Grant, the other android on the scene, got his pump going again." Her face took on a look of sadness Hank couldn't explain. "Besides, they don't take dead androids away in ambulances."

Cole didn't make it…

It felt like an eternity since Hank had been able to be released from the hospital, although he knew it must have only been a couple of hours. The android hospital, the one that Connor had been taken to, ended up being close enough for him to walk to, thankfully. Without a car or the desire to climb back inside one, he was left with very few options other than to walk.

His body was aching by the time he got to the hospital, a combination of the wreck and old age while being active in the snow. The things he did for this kid.

So far no one had contacted him, which Hank took as a good sign. No news was good news, after all.

Once he arrived an android similar to Julie directed him to a waiting room, not unlike a waiting room in a human hospital. There were less chairs here, though, and a lot more charging ports in case visiting androids needed to charge while waiting. It also lacked the scent of stale, bland coffee he had come to associate with human waiting rooms.

Androids hospitals had begun popping up almost as soon as the revolution had ended. Even with Markus leading only peaceful protests during the time, it had still led to not-so-peaceful people attacking androids, and with nowhere for the androids to go, they were left to fend for themselves on the scraps Jericho had.

Then the hospitals began to appear. They showed up where previous CyberLife stores had been, but this time instead of selling androids, they sold services such as repairs, check-ups,or anything else that androids might need to live.

He wondered how many humans actually came to an android hospital. The receptionist hadn't seemed to be too surprised to see him, especially after he told her who he was here for, but that didn't mean anything.

He picked up a pamphlet on the table in front of him, something about LEDs and whether or not to remove them. Hank tried to picture Connor without his and wondered if he ever thought about taking it out. He already sometimes forgot the kid wasn't actually a biological son of his, he couldn't imagine what it might be like if he didn't have any other way to remind himself of it…

"Lieutenant Anderson?"

Hank looked up to see a male android with blonde hair standing there. He smiled politely at Hank and gestured for him to follow him.

"My name is Ben. I'm, well I'm the equivalent of a surgeon, but for androids."

Hank felt a strong sense of familiarity creeping up. This was too similar to before. An android had tried to save his son because there wasn't a responsible human to do it. Now, as the android hospital was only staffed by androids, he knew that Ben must have been the one to perform whatever was necessary for Connor to survive.

He didn't blame the android from before who hadn't been able to save his son. He blamed the person who had sent in an android who had not been trained to do such a thing while he was too busy getting high. But if an android had again been the one who wasn't able to save his son...

"I must say, I'm impressed with Connor," he said, as he led the two of them down a hallway. "He's so unique. I don't think I've ever seen a model like this before."

Hank knew Ben didn't mean anything by it, but it still felt wrong to have someone talk about what kind of 'model' Connor was like he was some type of car or something. Especially when he was speaking of how 'unique' he was.

"He's a prototype," Hank said simply.

Ben nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I'd noticed that. RKs are extremely rare. I'm also impressed with the way he was able to reroute his thirium flow away from his damaged areas." Ben glanced at Hank from the corner of his eye. "I'm assuming you are the one who helped to remove the glass?"

"Yes."

"Very good. If you hadn't helped him, he likely would have shut down. Permanently. As it was, he was apparently in a state of temporary shut down when our medics arrived on the scene."

He paused outside of a door. "I'm going to be honest with you, Lieutenant Anderson. We came very close to losing Connor. The state he's in right now might be a shock for you. We've removed his entire chest plate to be able to suction out the thirium that had pooled in his chest cavity and to keep an eye on his biocomponents inside. He's also very weak, which means he might not be able to hold onto certain features."

Hank narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean 'certain features'?"

"Certain features like his "Uncanny Valley" filter might not work, or his voice might come out as static. If that's the case, I need you be to prepared for that and not cause him to stress out about it. His stress levels are already hoving around 60-75%, so we do not need him becoming any more stressed. Do you understand?"

Hank nodded. As if any state this kid could be in could be worse than seeing his LED blink out.

That's why you hate think one of us is responsible for your son's death.

It seemed as though Connor was sleeping. Which, Hank supposed, he sort of was. Apparently he was in one of his deep recharge states, closer to a stasis than anything else.

Immediately, Hank could see what Ben had been speaking of when he refered to his "Uncanny Valley" feature. Huge parts of his skin were gone; the strange, white, plastimetal taking over where his skin had dematerialized Both of his arms, legs, and from what he could see of his chest was nothing but white. His face and neck still looked human for the most part, aside from some white that shined near his LED.

His chest was also left open, as Ben had described, with a piece of clear plastic laid over the top to prevent any contaminants from getting inside. From this angle, Hank could see his thirium pump moving. It was so small and functioned too closely to a heart for Hank to stare too long.

"Hey, Connor," Hank said. He took a seat next to the android and grabbed a hold of his hand. "You about gave me a fucking heart attack."

There was no reaction. Hank had been warned that it might take a while for Connor to come back around, and even when he did he might be confused. But that didn't bother Hank any. He was just glad to see the kid.

"You know, I've never really seen the inside of an android before," he said, trying to fill the empty silence. "I guess it's not so different from the inside of a human."

The silence reigned again. Without Connor's constant stream of questions or observations it seemed impossible to fill.

"Sumo is going to be thrilled to see ya. That dumb dog just has a way of knowing when someone's hurt and taking care of them. He probably won't leave your side for weeks."

Tears obscured his vision as he stared at Connor's white hand. It didn't even feel human without the skin on it, but still, it felt like Connor.

"Did I ever tell you that he looked for Cole for three weeks after the accident?" he asked. His voice was low, like he was letting Connor's unconscious form in on a secret. "Dumb mutt. He whined at Cole's door, chewed on his favorite toys, and waited everyday by the door around the time school would end. Like he fucking knew I should be going to get him, and I just wasn't understanding."

He wiped and his eyes with the back of his hand. "I think it finally got through to him that Cole wasn't coming home after about a month. He stopped sitting in front of his doo,r and he didn't want to do anything anymore. Not for a long while at least."

"Which is why you have to wake up," he said. "Sumo'll be destroyed if anything happens to you. You're probably his favorite person in the world." Person. Not just android. Person. "I know that he's probably chewing on one of your plants right now, hoping that it'll bring you running in to get on to him."

It was late. Far too late for Hank to still be awake after everything that had happened. He laid his head down onto Connor's arm, careful not to disturb the plastic covering on his chest. He'd just sleep for a few minutes, that all.

"Goodnight, kid."

It wasn't your fault, Lieutenant.

The next time he woke up there was sunshine.

Sunshine was streaming into the room from one of the large windows, even managing to seep in through the blinds on the window. His whole body ached and protested any movement as he sat up straight beside the bed.

"Good morning, Lieutenant."

His eyes snapped fully open as he jerked his head up to Connor's face. Already the kid looked much better. The white plastimetal was back hidden under his skin, and he seemed to be in fine spirits.

"What's wrong with your voice?" Hank asked.

Connor frowned before answering. "It takes a lot of energy to repair something like this, which draws power away from my other systems. I'm sorry you had to see me like.. that," he said, clearly referencing his missing skin. "And my voice should return to normal soon. It'll be a little.. mechanical for now…"

"Your sorry? Kid I'm just happy you're alive!" Hank said. "Do you know how badly you fucking scared me!? And what's with the whole jerking the steering wheel thing, huh?"

Connor's eyes trailed down to his chest, which had still yet to be covered. "I took a calculated risk. If the truck had hit us on your side, your chance of surviving was around 20%. If it hit on my side, however, it increased your chance of surviving to 67%."

"Goddamnit, Connor! You can't just put yourself at risk like that for nothing! What do you think I'd have done if you'd actually died, huh?"

Connor hesitated before answering. He picked at the plastic sheet covering him, the same way he usually fidgeted with this coin or his tie. Which only helped to remind Hank of Connor's blue blood soaked coin back in the car.

"I assume you'd be sad for a while. Most humans are sad when something they'd grown attached to is lost," he said. His words were only made worse by the fact that his voice box was currently very robotic. "But I assume, over time, you would move on. Maybe even get a new partner. They might start letting regular androids test in to be police officers, maybe you could have even had one of them-"

"Do you think I just want you around because your an android!?" Hank interrupted. "That the only reason I want you around is because I find you useful?"

Connor glanced at him in uncertainty. "Like I said, I assumed you would be sad and then you would move on after I shut down."

Hank opened his mouth, perhaps to yell some more, but Connor's LED flashed from blue, straight to red, and then back. His eyes were looking at something Hank couldn't see, dismissing whatever it was from his vision.

"What's your stress at?" Hank asked.

Connor let out a strange noise. "Around 80-85%."

"Fuck, I'm sorry kid," Hank said. He leaned back from the bed, running his fingers through his hair as he did so. "I just- you've got to understand, you're more to me than just some android or even just a partner, okay? You're family. I like having you around. I want you to stay around. So you can't keep doing things like this." He paused for a moment. "Besides, what would Sumo do without you?" he asked, hoping to brighten the mood a little bit at the mention of his dog.

Connor's brows furrowed. "Last night, you told me Sumo would miss me if I was gone."

Hank paled slightly. He hadn't thought Connor could really hear him when he had spoken to him. "Yeah, kid, he'd miss you like crazy if anything ever happened to you."

"And you'd miss me, too?"

"Of course."

Connor nodded. He looked over at Hank, probably doing one of those scans that he did at crime scenes. Hank hated when he turned it on to him, because he always saw more than what he was supposed to see.

"None of this is your fault, you know. Not...before. And not now," Connor said.

Despite the feelings of guilt that still weighed on Hank, he did feel a little better. He'd never get over what happened to Cole, probably never stop blaming himself for it either, but it did help to know that not everyone blamed him. Hell, Connor even had a reason to be angry at him now and he didn't care.

"I should have seen that fucking truck coming." He wasn't sure if he meant the first time or now.

"I'm a complex and highly advanced android, and I didn't even notice the truck until it almost hit us. It's not. Your. Fault," Connor said seriously.

Hank still didn't agree, but he didn't argue anymore. He didn't want to set off Connor's stress levels and possibly harm his recovery time.

"So did they say when you can get out of here?" he asked.

Connor nodded. "They messaged me earlier and said that the new chest piece would be in by noon and that I could check out as soon as they had installed it. It shouldn't be too long now."

"Good, that's good," Hank said. He patted Connor's hand before standing up to stretch. "You do know that you're probably going to have to buy more house plants when we get home, right?"

Connor furrowed his brows. "What? Why?"

Hank smiled a bit. "Because we left Sumo in when we went to work. And since we've both been here all night, it's highly likely that he used some of them as dinner."

Connor groaned, but a smile appeared on his face. "I can't wait to go home."

Hank smiled at his words. "I can't wait either."

Author's note: Just to let you guys know, this is the same story that I've posted over on AO3 under the same name. I just thought that I'd revive my account so I could share with y'all over here! Let me know if you enjoyed it or if you've seen me over there!